Something in me vibrates to a dusky, dreamy smell of dying moons and shadows.

—  Zelda Fitzgerald (via seabois)

(via seabois)

11:45

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My heart is a flower blossoming out of my mouth.

—  Warsan Shire (via itsserenwrap)

(via smashed-flowers)

11:25

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All language is but a poor translation.

—   Franz Kafka (via apoemmyway)

7:30

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(via thevelvetsubmarine)

7:27    source   reblog